WINNING MAURA’S HEART

 

The Hangman’s Daughters Series, Book # 1

 

by

 

Linda Broday

 

 

Western Romance / Clean & Wholesome / Historical Fiction

 

Publisher: Severn House

 

Date of Publication: March 7, 2023

 

Number of Pages: 256 pages

 

 

 

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Maura Taggart is an outcast, the daughter of a hangman and tainted by association – no reputable man wants her as his wife. And now she is homeless, along with her sister and the group of children in their care. Armed with pure grit, she finds a nearby mission where the nuns agree to take them in and set up an orphanage. But trouble is just around the corner . . .

The Calhoun brothers are identical twins but on opposite sides of the law. Cutter is a deputy Marshal, Jonas an outlaw. When Cutter attempts to break his brother out of a notorious gang, they are shot, and Maura finds one of them wounded, close to the mission – but which brother is it?

As the stranger regains his strength under Maura’s care an attraction between them grows, yet how far can she trust him? And why has he brought trouble to their door? With the orphanage under threat can Maura trust this handsome stranger both with their safety and with her heart?

 

 

 

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Excerpt from Winning Maura’s Heart

 

By Linda Broday

 

 

Calhoun met her blue gaze and came near to slicing his ear. He swallowed hard and shaved all that he could get to with one arm. Finally, he laid the razor in the water. “That’s it.”

“You did good, Calhoun.” Maura dried the straight razor and uncurled the strop.

He watched in fascination as she expertly sharpened the blade. “You’ve used one of those before.”

“I used to love doing this for my father on the rare occasions when he was home. And when he let me, which was in truth only a handful of times. But it made me feel that he cared for me. At least a little.”

“I take it your father was away a lot.”

“Yes, he has to travel where the jobs take him.”

“What kind of work does he do?”

Maura froze. After several moments, she spoke. “I’d rather not say if you don’t mind. His profession has made life—difficult—for Emma and me.”

What did he do? Curiosity had him biting his tongue to keep from asking. If he could bear waiting until tomorrow, he’d ask Max. But whatever it was had kept both girls from having a life.

Apparently, they’d been unwelcome in town so they brought the children out here. Now it made some sense why those folks had chopped off Emma’s hair.

The sisters were outcasts. For whatever reason, no one wanted their company.

His blood ran cold. There were only three professions that folks had difficulty with, and he didn’t like the thought of any of them. Grave digger, undertaker, and hangman. And the first two were far more acceptable than the third. Calhoun put the thought aside for now. Maura had gotten the blade at the sharpness she wanted it and stood ready.

“I’ve never done this part of shaving, but I’ll try not to cut you.”

“Thanks for that.” He was already sweating. First, at the thought of an untrained person holding such a sharp instrument. But worse than that…she stood so close and would have to lean in to get in the right positions. No barber he’d ever gone to had been encumbered with breasts and Maura’s were quite…well, let’s just say no one would ever mistake her for a man. Not at all. Even if they were blind as bats.

“Relax, Calhoun. You’re not scared, are you?”

“Quit teasing. Of course, I’m apprehensive.” He took a deep breath. “Proceed.”

“You act like you’re about to be drawn and quartered like they did in jolly old England.”

“I think they still might,” he muttered darkly.

Her sleeve brushed his cheek as she made the first stroke. She leaned to whisper. “You’re in good hands, Calhoun.”

A side glance found him staring down her dress at all that soft skin. He tried several times to speak before he managed to croak, “Yes, ma’am.”

She moved and the view disappeared. He could finally release the breath he’d been holding. Despite her inexperience, her strokes were slow and smooth with no hesitation or nicks.

But keeping her bosom away from his face was all but impossible. He closed his eyes but each time he opened them, there they were.

Normally, he wouldn’t complain but he was trying to be a gentleman as much as he was able. When his body reacted and he was about to embarrass himself, he pictured his last fishing trip and counted the fish on his stringer. When he ran out of fish, he counted the worms, then his bullets.

“Are you going to sleep, Calhoun?” she asked.

Good Lord, he was far from that! Every nerve ending was standing on end and saluting. He folded his hands over himself.

“No, ma’am. Just thinking about going fishing.”

“I see. Do you fish often?”

“Every chance I get, but it’s been a while since I last went.”

“Lean your head back and tighten the skin around your mouth and nose. A little more and we’ll be through.”

He did as she asked and found his head resting on those soft twin mounds. It was like floating on a cloud.

Stop it. Just stop it. He couldn’t let himself enjoy the sensation. It was wrong, wrong, wrong and he was about to lose control. And would if this went on for long. And then what?

“Quit squirming,” Maura scolded.

“I’m trying.” But all sorts of inappropriate images were running through his head.

The moments passed as she finished up then dropped the straight razor into the bowl of water and stepped back. “I’m done.”

Not a moment too soon. He struggled to his feet, wiping away the excess shaving soap with the towel. “Thank you. It feels good to rid myself of those bristles.”

“You’re welcome. You look…nice.”

He chuckled. “You mean human. I’m beginning to feel like it, thanks to you.”

Without looking at him, she opened the door to empty the bowl of water. “No offense, but I hope you can manage by yourself next time.”

Something had happened to her voice. It seemed a little strained. Had this affected her as it had him?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of western romance novels and short stories. Watching TV westerns during my youth fed my love of cowboys and the old West and they still do. On a still day, I can often hear the voices of American Indians, Comancheros, and early cowboys whispering in the breeze here on the high West Texas plains. We refer to this land as “cowboy” country and men here still ride the range just as cowboys of old. My stories focus on family life and almost all have children.

 

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THREE WINNERS:

 

GRAND PRIZE: tote including signed copy of Winning Maura’s Heart, strawberry & chocolate tea, Cowgirl hand lotion, bath bombs, personalized cup;

 

2nd Prize: eBook copy Winning Maura’s Heart;

 

3rd Prize: $15 Amazon gift card

 

(US only; ends midnight, CDT, 4/14/23)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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